


Under Duress

by Hustling_Rube93



Series: Stay [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Shameless Smut, Smut, Wall Sex, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hustling_Rube93/pseuds/Hustling_Rube93
Summary: Hermione didn’t expect the evening to begin quite like this, but she wasn’t complaining.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Series: Stay [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574908
Comments: 10
Kudos: 175





	Under Duress

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing I thought of and had to jot down :D 
> 
> I own nothing. All mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

Hermione didn’t expect the evening to begin quite like this, but she wasn’t complaining.

They were supposed to be leaving for the Ministry’s twelfth annual Hero’s Remembrance Ball in a few minutes, but just as Hermione was finishing off her lipstick at the vanity, she found herself suddenly dragged from her stool and pushed roughly against the wall. 

Hermione giggled, “What’s gotten into you?”

“You, with a bit of luck,” Bellatrix growled against her ear. “Did you honestly think you could parade yourself in front of me in that scandalous dress and assume I wouldn’t take you against the wall?”

“But we’ll be late,” Hermione said, laughing as her wife palmed her breasts through the silky material of her dress. 

“No one will miss us.”

“They most certainly will!” Hermione insisted, even as a white hot spear of desire shot down her spine. “I’m guest speaker this year and - oh!”

Hermione’s words died in her throat and she choked back a moan as Bellatrix’s wet tongue glided up the pale column of her throat. 

No, Hermione definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Bellatrix clearly approved of the dress. 

The dress that was a shade of navy so dark it was almost black; the dress that left her shoulders bare so Bellatrix could whisper her lips along her delicate collarbones; the dress that pushed her modest breasts together to form a voluptuous cleavage; the dress with a high enough slit up the side that Bellatrix could sneak her fingers underneath to caress the little scrap of lace between her legs. 

What a shame it was probably going to end up on the floor in a few seconds. 

“Bella,” Hermione gasped, even though she knew her pleas were futile. “Aren’t we a bit old to be dry humping against the wall like randy teenagers?”

Bellatrix’s voice was full of grit and desire as she toyed with her over the thin lace of her sodden knickers. “I can assure you, darling, there’s nothing dry here.”

Hermione crashed into Bellatrix mouth first. 

Their kisses were sloppy and rough; all probing wet tongues and sharp little bites. And when Bellatrix’s fingers started to slide back and forwards, Hermione found herself rocking against them. But it was nowhere near enough and Hermione bucked into Bellatrix’s touch, desperate for more friction. 

“Inside,” she panted, pressing their foreheads together, sucking in deep breaths between even deeper kisses. “Please, inside.”

Wordlessly, Bellatrix removed her hand and Hermione ached briefly at the loss until nimble fingers pushed her knickers aside. Bellatrix fucked her slowly with one finger and nothing - _nothing_ \- had ever felt better! They struck up a slow rhythm against the wall, and her thundering pulse matched the throbbing inside her. 

Dimly, she couldn’t help but think how this would probably be the best dance she’d have all night. 

“So wet,” Bellatrix hummed, adding a second finger. 

Hermione felt her body tense, the promise of her impending orgasm, and her hands scrambled for purchase on Bellatrix’s shoulders. It sometimes astounded her how quickly Bellatrix could bring her to the brink of ecstasy. And when Bellatrix’s nails bit into the creamy flesh at the back of her thigh, hiking Hermione’s leg up to wrap around her hip, the new angle made Bellatrix’s curling fingers hit even deeper. 

Hermione bucked her hips frantically and mouthed at Bellatrix’s ear; a breathy _yessss_ , softly panted _fuck_ ’s and _ohhh_ ’s, a rough _Bella_! 

Bellatrix licked and sucked and bit at Hermione’s neck, groaning at the dirty little nothings spilling from Hermione’s lips. Her breath was warm and her teeth scraped against Hermione’s flushed skin and her fingers were just _there_ , sending wave after delicious wave rippling through her body. 

It was only when Bellatrix started rubbing tight circles around her clit with her thumb that Hermione truly lost herself. 

It was too much.

It was nowhere near enough. 

“Faster,” Hermione hissed, words soaked in absolute need for Bellatrix. “Fuck me faster.”

Always happy to oblige, Bellatrix picked up the pace, and all Hermione could do was hang on for dear life. 

She pleaded, “Please, please, please.”

Bellatrix’s throaty laugh was almost derisive, as if she was mocking her for so badly wanting what she’d initially tried to discourage. 

“Oh, Bella!” Sobbing now, she fisted her hand in Bellatrix’s glossy curls. “I’m so close.”

Grunting breathlessly, Bellatrix redoubled her efforts and worked with fury, thrusting into her at a relentless pace. Hermione tugged at Bellatrix’s hair and dug her nails into the back of her neck, hips jerking with every thrust. 

And then Hermione felt her entire body snap taut and she throbbed, hard, over and over and over again until her soft cries of pleasure turned to ragged cries of, “Okay, okay, stop - enough, stop.”

Bellatrix’s fingers stilled and they stood there for a few seconds, panting against each and trading sweet little kisses while they caught their breaths. 

“You’re so naughty,” Hermione finally murmured, leaning her head back against the wall. 

Bellatrix pulled her hand out of Hermione’s knickers and gave her fingers a languid suck. Hermione’s belly did a flip flop thinking about all the other things Bellatrix’s pretty mouth could do. 

There was no doubt in her mind she looked thoroughly fucked. Her dress was wrinkled and still bunched up around her hips, her knickers were askew, and if the state of Bellatrix’s lipstick was anything to go by then she could only imagine what hers looked like. 

“We’re going to be late now, and I’ll need at least thirty minutes to fix—” Hermione fluttered her hands up and down her sides “—this.”

Bellatrix dragged her dark eyes up and down Hermione’s still trembling body appraisingly. “You look beautiful. Let’s just stay here.”

Hermione groaned. “We can’t just not go!” she said, even though her traitorous body started to thrum again when Bellatrix started to peel away her own dress. “I’m - I’m guest speaker! I’m—”

Oh, who was she kidding? 

There was always next year. 

She pressed close to Bellatrix again, angling her lips along her sharp jaw, and whispered, “If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them I was held under duress.”

“Under the dress,” Bellatrix quipped playfully, and tangled their fingers together to tug Hermione backwards towards the bed.


End file.
